Over the next few months, Gronk and Munterla met up often and soon became inseparable. Before the year was out, Gronk proposed and they were soon married. After a rainy honeymoon in a dreary English seaside town, the couple moved in together. They could just afford to rent a flat above a shop on the High Street. It was a central location in the Snook and close to the bars and restaurants. On the first night in their new home, they discussed a new surname, now they were man and wife.
“Well, it’s normal for the woman to take the man’s last name,” Gronk insisted.
“I’m not normal,” Munterla replied huskily. “Why don’t we use my surname?” Sweat formed on her top lip.
“Because my name is steeped in history,” he replied with pride. Gronk loved regaling the tales of his glorious ancestor.
“In days gone by, my forefather was so brave in the Battle of Snookford he received a medal! This heroic lineage is obviously where I get my bravery from, you know,” Gronk bragged, admiring his impressive pedigree. “The lore of the Gronks is my ancestor was awarded none other than the red star medal of Bosworth!! It was only ever awarded to the high-born who showed exceptional courage in times of war. The honour of that accolade has passed through the generations. It’s my heritage!!”
Munterla snorted. “Well, we’re just going to have to use both our names then.”
After a lingering silence, Gronk smiled. “What a marvellous idea! Double-barrelled names are the mark of a Poshey.”
“Hmm, does Twonk-Gronk sound classy enough?”
“I’m not sure, it’s missing a certain je ne sais quoi,” Gronk squeaked. He smirked a sideways glance at how posh he sounded.
“Mr and Mrs… Gronk-Twonk?” Munterla asked.
“No, it just doesn’t sound right,” he mused, deep in thought. “Munterla Gronk-Twonk?”
“No, I don’t think so,” she replied. “Guido Gronk-Twonk?”
“Nooooo!! I don’t like ANYONE using my first name… you know that!” Gronk said in a raised voice.
“S… sorry dear, I was just trying it out with our surnames together.”
“It’s such a strange choice of name for a child… life was so difficult as a Guido. I don’t know what mummy and daddy were thinking. All the kids at school… even the teachers, used to call me ‘Gweirdo.’ It was so unfair. Oh, poor me,” he piped.
“There, there dear,” she comforted throatily, “I never really liked Munterla either. It’s… it’s just… so girly.”
“Hang on a second,” Gronk screeched with a glint in his eye. “Munterla Twonk!”
“Yes?”
“MUNTER La TWONK!!”
“What about it?”
“MUNTER LaTWONK!!!”
“SO WHAT?!?” Munterla said, raising her voice.
“Did you see what I did there? If we move the ‘La’ from the end of your first name to the beginning of your last name, it sounds quite classy: LaTwonk. And, if we put it after my incredible surname, voila, it sounds like we’re nobility: Gronk-LaTwonk!” He scribbled on a piece of scrap paper and held it ceremoniously aloft.
“Mr and Mrs Gronk-LaTwonk!!” Munterla smiled.
“Only, and here’s the clever bit, your christian name changes from ‘Munterla’ to ‘Munter’ because I’ve moved the ‘La’ over. What do you think?”
“I like it! ‘Munter.’ It’s so me,” she replied gruffly. “From now on, I will be known as Munter,” she exclaimed.
“And I shall still be known as Gronk. There’s no need in fixing something that isn’t broken.” He took a long self-congratulatory moment to bask in his obvious genius.
“Why live by normal rules?” Gronk asked. “That would be so ordinary and we are EXTRAordinary.” He scrunched his nose up.
“You’re so brainy,” Munter gushed.
Copyright © 2022 Callum Stanford. All rights reserved.
